


Cerulean Tides

by whitearrow



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-27 13:41:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20949260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitearrow/pseuds/whitearrow
Summary: In another life, Byleth is not a goddess reborn, but instead a princess from another country--a fact that is a new revelation for this young mercenary who must enroll in Garreg Mach. In a world where crests are no more than titles and estates, Byleth’s skill, borne from her mercenary endeavors, is the envy of all, to her detriment. By her side stands one Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, a pleasant young prince who is more than eager to help her find her bearings in the topsy turvy world of nobility and politics, as she learns that a sword is not quite the solution for all of her problems.





	Cerulean Tides

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello!  
This is going to be a long one--I'm setting up a special fancy tumblr especially formatted for this series, I hope you'll enjoy it on both platforms! I'll link that one once the design work is prepared  
Frame by rawpixels.com

The faint trickle of uneven drops of rain streaking down Byleth’s window represented her mood quite well. There were a pile of etiquette books piled on her bed, desk, and floor, all supplied by a very helpful (almost overbearingly so) ginger. She scrawled notes on parchment, her handwriting messier than her thoughts, with question marks littering the pages. She thought Jeralt’s education would suffice to get through life, but now she was challenged with learning a noble’s education, in the span of, well, immediately.

“Urgh,” she groaned and closed a book detailing the perfect angles of bows (not the type that shot arrows, unfortunately) and rubbed her aching temple.

Never, could she have dreamed that saving the lives of three noble “brats” would lead to her entire life being flipped inside and out, upside down and into a frenzy. She’d grown accustomed to being called the Ashen Demon--now she would have to be addressed as Princess? She knew how to slash foes and cut them down—when it came to manners, customs, and politics, she knew not a curtsy from a curtain, but she had no time to spare. Thrust into a school of nobility, people would be watching her every step. 

Byleth sighed as she sank into her pillow—the satin was a stark difference from all the bales of hay, fields of grass, and lump mattresses, she’d grown used to—and recalled the root of all this trouble.

  


Her whole dilemma began in Remire village. It was a quaint village that watched her often in her youth when she was still too young to bear a blade (according to her father, at least). They had finished a few tasks there, when three nobles of her age had requested her and her father’s aid, as they had a spot of trouble with some nasty bandits. It was quick work with their combined might, and she had assumed that would be the end of it. Little had she expected to run into a long lost friend of her father’s--Alois, the head knight of the Church of Seiros, and a jolly and merry fellow with a booming voice that seized their attention at once. 

Jeralt was once a knight of Garreg Mach--that was all she had learned before she was seated on a horse behind one of the young nobles--Prince Dimitri of Faerghus--and they set out on their path. The prince took peeks at her as she listened intently, although she did not miss his kind gaze.

Jeralt once fell in love with a nun—a lovely nun that actually had hailed from Albinea as a royal. She lived at the monastery as an “esteemed guest.” The small scoff Dimitri made revealed just what manner of guest her mother was to the church, even if she knew nothing of the politics involved. The more uncomfortable details were obviously skimmed over to skip to the part where Jeralt decided to raise her away from all of high society as a mercenary. That part worked smoothly--up till that moment, that is.

That was all that she learned. After arriving at the monastery she had little time to speak to her father.   
  
There was an awkward meeting with the head priestess, Rhea. She could not forget the way the woman’s eyes pierced through her, in a way that sent shivers down her spine--it was the first time she wondered about her mother--had she felt the same way? Perhaps that was why her father couldn’t deny returning to his position in the church, and why Byleth couldn’t refuse becoming a new student in the monastery.   
  
Now she was to settle in and decide which House to join. It was all too fast for her--and she thought she had outgrown school by now, she was nigh eighteen years of age. Each house leader had their merits, she supposed, from the little time she’d spent from them and from listening to the whispers in the halls.

As though reading her thoughts, there was a guest at her door. As she turned her head to look, it was one sheepish Dimitri, one hand raised to rap the door and the other behind his back. His blonde hair scattered by his eyes, and he offered a small, yet genuine smile. “Pardon the intrusion…”  
  
“Not at all,” she nodded at him. “I’m not one for formalities…” She tried to sit a bit more properly, and started pushing books around to give room for Dimitri to sit down. 

“Oh it’s alright you needn’t go through the tro--” he trailed off as he watched a few books plummet to the wooden floor. “Well, since you insist.” He kept a polite distance from her, but sat gently on her mattress. There was a soft rustle as she waited for him to speak. “I thought it might be a lot to handle all at once. I’m not sure how I may help but--know that you always have a shoulder to lean on, here at Garreg Mach--and anywhere else,” he added after a pause.

Byleth smiled for the first time since arriving. She was sure it looked small and weary, but Dimitri brightened up ever so much anyways. “I appreciate it. Having an ally in a place like this...well, I admit it makes me feel a bit better.” Still, she didn’t want to burden him if she could avoid it.

“It’s not mere lipservice,” he said gently, as though reading her thoughts again. “If I catch you struggling...know I’ll be your support, Princess.”

Byleth almost sputtered. Princess! She supposed she was one, technically. After all, that key detail was what hassled her so much. “P-please, just call me Byleth...Your _ Highness _.”

It was his turn to pull a face. “Please, spare me that--ah, I see what you’re trying to do,” he smirked, and couldn’t hold back a chuckle.

Perhaps it was the tension in her releasing just a bit, but she found herself laughing quietly with him. It wasn’t funny at all, really. But it was an absurd situation for her--and he could see it too. If for a few moments, she forgot the rain and instead enjoyed this silly little bout of humor with her newfound acquaintance. “You see. You grew up in it, and still don’t like it.”  
  
Dimitri nodded. “A fair point, Pr--” She glowered at him and he paused. “Byleth.”

Before she could reply, she heard a cough at the door. Her second guest for the day. It was another redhead--though different from the one that followed her around earlier (at least, she thought it was, the uniforms made it difficult to tell). “Hey hey, what’s goin on? Looks like you’re gettin’ cosy here with the new girl.” The redhead--

“Sylvain,” Dimitri clicked his tongue.

\--Ah, Sylvain. He looked like a fox who found a chicken coop. His hair was even the appropriate color, and sticking up like a bushy tail. “I’m just saying,” he shrugged carelessly as he leaned against the door frame. “Looks like the prince finally found someone his type.”  
  
Dimitri stood up in a hurry, his cheeks a bright red. Byleth assumed they were friends, by how fearlessly Sylvain teased him. She herself shot an annoyed glance at the man, who was only more encouraged. “Sylvain, leave her alone.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he said airily. “Anyways, guess you’re joining the Blue Lions house, right?”  
  
Oh right...was that why Dimitri came over? He never made the formal invitation. She looked over at the blushing prince, who couldn’t quite meet her eyes. It took another moment before he recovered, and he bowed politely. “Yes, I hope that you’ll forgive this transgression and find it to join the Blue Lions. We would be privileged to have someone of your caliber join our ranks.”

Byleth nodded quietly, as the two men took their leave (or more accurately put, Dimitri dragged out Sylvain by the ear). It would be a big commitment to make, she figured. But it’s been his hand that’s been offered to her—and she found herself wanting to take it. And it wasn’t as though she knew much better anyways. It was decided, then. She would inform Rhea of her choice and formally enroll. Not that she had much choice in the matter. 

Still, the weight on her chest lightened up enough for her to put her head back on straight and return to her books. What’s this? As she retrieved a book from the foot of the bed where Dimitri sat, she noticed a tiny roll of parchment fall out, tied by a pink ribbon. “Good luck,” it said. 

So that was the rustling noise she’d heard before. He’d hidden the note...Was he too shy to hand it directly? She smiled to herself. She rarely spoke to others of her age but, perhaps it could be promising. She walked over to the journal on her desk, and carefully pressed his present between the sheets. It was a word of encouragement that she would probably be needing soon. 

Classes began a couple of days after. The first day she sat down in her seat, Dimitri and his friends approached her while beaming—except one blue haired fellow who looked disinterested—and all circled around her. 

A chorus of “Hello!” rang out as Dimitri introduced her to everyone. Sylvain waved and winked, and wasn’t allowed the chance to speak. Annette was bright and sunny, where Mercedes was the more soothing, and kindly gentle friend, and Ingrid had a disposition that was in between. Ashe looked earnest in his salutations, and Felix shrugged until Dedue pointed out her fighting prowess. 

Felix looked at her with renewed interest. “A mercenary huh? You’ll be fun to cross swords with.”

“You’ll get time for that later.” A cool voice interrupted the rowdiness of the class, as a masked man stood at the front of the room. “Class is starting, settle down.”

His stature was so imposing that no one dared argue. The tables skidded and squeaked as the students settled down, but Dimitri stayed standing as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He glanced in her direction...did he wish to sit by her?

Byleth looked at him and moved her bag so that he would have space. His shoulders slumped as though he sighed in relief, and sat beside her. 

“Thank you for keeping me company,” she said softly as she watched him retrieve a quill and parchment. 

“I hope I wasn’t imposing?”

“Not at all.” In fact, she was more grateful than he knew. She still wasn't sure how to thank him for his gift earlier...she wasn't good at expressing these types of things. It was always her and her father, and they both always understood the other without words. How it was like for other people...she would have to learn, she supposed.

Professor (Jeritza, he wrote on the board) cleared his throat and they quieted down. Class was uneventful. The topics were basic but most of the students paid close attention, even though the professor appeared bored himself. The day passed quickly enough as they heard lectures from the other professors too. 

At the end of the final period was when Jeritza took the most interest. “We are to have a mock battle this weekend. It will test your caliber to see if your skills are worth honing, and how far they will take you.”

“Yeesh,” Sylvain muttered under his breath, and a few others nodded worriedly. 

“Hmph, it’ll be an interesting show. Just practice for the battle of the Eagle and Lion, later.”

“Then I expect an excellent performance from all of you. Class dismissed—except for you, Eisner.”

Byleth jolted. Her? Was she in trouble already? Had he noticed her space out? She looked at Dimitri who gave her a reassuring look before he head out with the others. “Sir?”

“A last minute addition. I hear your blade is sharp.”

“Erm—” Well he wasn’t wrong, she supposed, swords were rather pointy after all.

“You need not my instruction.” 

She wasn’t sure how to respond to that. 

“You’ve more experience than most this monastery, and the entire class. You’ll get nothing out of books.” She didn’t think herself that experienced—she was shy of her eighteenth birthday, and could always pick up something new… “So we shall cross blades to test your talents.”  
  
...What?

“I--”  
  
Jeritza didn’t bother to listen for any arguments. He decided what he decided and she just would have to listen to it. She wondered if it was really for her own gain, or he just was curious about...whatever rumors were apparently circulating around the monastery. He charged past her and ahead, bursting free of the classroom and with a path destined for the training grounds. She could see heads of blonde, blue, and red right next to them. They bickered among themselves as it were, with majority of their whispers appearing to blame Sylvain. She didn’t have time to talk to them, however, as Jeritza looked back at her to make sure she kept her pace. Dimitri and the others lost their shame quite fast, as they decided to tag along to see the match ahead.

She was not prepared for it one bit. But she could not deny her anticipation. Eager sets of footsteps crossed the stone floors and dirt paths as they head into their destination.

Jeritza already assumed his stance with two training blades in hand--he tossed one at Byleth who caught it more gracefully than she’d intended. Their small audience took several steps back--anticipating what was going to be an intense fight.

“Draw your weapon, and let us begin.”

This isn’t what she had in mind for homework.


End file.
